Sufferable Heart
by Tarafina
Summary: Why kill your enemy when you can make them suffer tenfold by aiming for their heart? :Chlollie:


**Title**: Sufferable Heart  
**Category**: Smallville**  
Rating**: T**  
Genre**: Romance/Drama**  
Ship**: Chloe/Oliver**  
Word Count**: 2,152**  
Summary**: Why kill your enemy when you can make them suffer tenfold by aiming for their heart?

**_Sufferable Heart  
_**1/1

_They were everywhere._

Enemies by the dozen. Faces he hadn't seen in years, faces he'd seen all too recently, faces he wished he could forget. They surrounded him, mocking smirks permanently etched across their faces; victory shining bright in their eyes. He didn't have enough arrows to take them all down, but God willing he'd try. There was a mocking clap from behind him, he whirled instinctively.

Lex smirked at him, all too smug for a man who should be dead. In fact, _was_ dead. Oliver had seen it done first hand. But then, what was so surprising about Lex Luthor living again; he was a master at deflecting death. Lex clasped his hands together, nodding them at Oliver as he shook his head.

"Let me guess, you're counting how many arrows you have and which of us to kill first. Take out the strong ones so they don't get in the way. Hand-to-hand combat might just get you out of this."

Oliver merely lifted a brow; he wasn't about to admit that was_ exactly _what he'd been thinking.

"That'd be too easy though, wouldn't it Queen?" Lex circled him, bald head bent at an angle as he surveyed his prey as if ready to pounce and tear his organs from his body in one fail swoop. While Oliver would never outwardly admit any sort of admiration for the man, he did have a way with creating fear in others. "The hero wins again, saves the world and all is right…" He tisked, eyes falling. "But where would be the fun in that?"

It was all Oliver could do not to show any outward reaction. Names listed through his mind a mile a minute; anybody he'd been in contact with lately that would be a target. There were only a handful or so he would truly do anything for, whatever the length, but he was certain in his capacity to hide those close relationships to his heart. A man unguarded was a dead man; and those he held dear were as good as rotting just the same.

But when they dragged her out, kicking and screaming and giving them hell for their manhandling, he swallowed tightly, his body rigid.

How?

The question lodged in his throat, stung his eyes and twisted his gut so tight he swore the grinding of it echoed throughout the room.

Nameless, faceless goons carried her forward and held her out for Lex's perusal. He circled her too, as if she was yet another course for the night, a feast of epic proportions for a man like him.

Livid, Oliver clenched his jaw tight. If he'd learned anything it was never to show weakness, it only begot more agony.

Reaching out, Lex caught a tendril of her blonde hair in his fingers. "I can see where the interest lies…" he murmured in that bored drawl of his. "If it weren't just for her outer beauty, one could easily be captivated by her wit and never-ending curiosity… Hmm, but she does come with a few drawbacks." He cocked a brow. "She's nearly been assassinated as much as I have. And that isn't as easy as I make it seem." He smirked caustically. Locking his fingers in the hair at the nape of her neck he yanked her head back. "What do you think, Miss Sullivan? Will he play the arrogant hero that cares little for you in hopes that I'll doubt myself? Or…" He peered smugly at Oliver. "Do you think he'll offer himself up to save you?"

"Go to hell," she spat through clenched teeth.

He merely laughed. "Been there, done that." He shook his head. "No, if anything the experience taught me just how precious life really is… And you know what happens when I get that way…" He smirked devilishly at her. "I make everyone else utterly miserable."

"Why not skip the rerun then and get to the point?" she snarled.

"So impatient," he chastised, lifting his gaze to Oliver once more. "You'd think she'd be more wary in a room full of her lover's worst enemies. But no… She never could hold her tongue to save her life."

Oliver's teeth ground together but he was hell bent on showing no fear or anxiety. "Was she really vital to this plan? I'm surrounded already, there's no exit strategy, I'm well aware of my circumstances and how this will likely play out so why is she necessary?" He cocked a brow. "Little overkill, Lex. Next time, stick to one dastardly plan and don't overdo yourself. It reflects poorly on your evil mastermind status."

Lip curling, Lex shook his head. "It would if you weren't as predictable as you so easily are. You see, where others have failed I will not. Last man standing, as per usual." Waving his arms around, he motioned to the many eager enemies that surrounded him. "You're trapped, unable to escape or call for help. Not an easy feat but one I've accomplished. Now, however, we go about breaking you." He lifted a finger as if to quiet everyone for his seemingly important note. "Breaking you is not as easy as it sounds. We could torture you for hours, days, weeks even." He shrugged the seriousness of it away. "Or… we could torture the only person you truly love until you literally beg us to kill you so you don't have to watch it anymore." He grinned sadistically. "Granted, it's not quite as intricate as my usual plans, but then… Love is a many splendid thing."

"Don't say a word, Oliver," Chloe told him stoically, her eyes staring at the ceiling with resolve.

"Ah and the hero in her speaks out." Lex glanced around at his admirers as they chuckled, amused by the situation. "No doubt she'll last awhile, tell you to look away, put up a brave front. But it's her _screams _that'll get to you… You won't even have to see her as we flay her skin from her body."

Dread mixed with vomit as it crawled up from the recesses of his stomach to burn at his throat.

Lex walked circles around him, listing every cruelty imaginable that he'd do to her so vividly Oliver could already hear her sobbing in agony, could imagine the tears spilling from her eyes. And he could do nothing but watch. Already he was scanning the building again, there had to be a way out. He could get her out of here; he had to. He wouldn't let this happen to her. He wouldn't sit by and _watch _it happen to her.

There were no windows, no doors. Hell, even where they'd brought her from the walls sealed once more. No escape. He couldn't remember how he got here; what had he been doing? What led him to this creaseless room? A dome of security with no exit or entrance; the perfect place to house a person so capable of getting out of any and every cinch.

"Tell me…" Lex asked, lowering his voice to a mocking whisper. "Late at night when you were holding her and promising to love and protect her… did you ever imagine you'd be the reason she had her organs methodically plucked from her body?"

His breath escaped in a shudder and rage began to well up inside him. He dearly hoped nobody could see the way he shook but as he curled his hands into fists to keep them from noticeably quaking, he was certain they could.

"I bet you had dreams that one day you'd marry her… Give her the white picket fence and the secure home with 2.5 kids and a mini-van…" Lex looked him up and down, sneering. "You'd play heroes at night, prowling the cities to keep them safe and then go home to your cozy little love nest. Am I right?"

That's exactly what they'd been doing. Night after night, week after week, for years now they'd created a life for themselves in the background, behind the scenes. If they weren't enjoying the comfort and sweet seduction of their newfound relationship, they were out scouting Metropolis or whichever city they happened to be in to keep everyone out there as safe as could be. If she wasn't in his ear as Watchtower, guiding the resistance against evil, she was at his side, whispering snarky sweet nothings. And how he'd dreamed; of a lifetime like this. Of his beguiling Watchtower forever there to guide his arrow, to keep him on his toes and remind him of the humanity he'd once struggled to keep.

Once he'd been lost and she found him, yanked him up out of his pit of despair, dusted him off and told him to get back to the heroics. He fought her on it, refused to don the green leather again. But earnest in her trust, she argued just as tenaciously. Until one day he was the Arrow again and he was calm and collected, comfortable with his duo-identity. She picked up her ear-piece, found them missions and directed their lives onward once more. And what had he given her in response? This. Death. _Torture_.

He'd promised her perfection. He'd held her in his arms and kissed her heart, hoping it would always beat for him. He'd heard her joyful laughter and cradled her when she cried. He'd explored every inch of her body until they were exhausted beyond measure. He knew her feet were ticklish, that she loved it when he played with her hair, that she would forever deny she snored, even lightly. He knew her eyes were myrtle green when she first woke up, jade when she was aroused, and a glittering emerald when she was truly happy. They were near teal now though; absolute heartbreak.

"Strip her. And ready the exam table," Lex called out, voice completely void of emotion.

"No!" he shouted, lurching forward, knocking Lex out of the way as he wrapped his arms around her tensed body. "I'm sorry."

Arms pulled at him, angry voices yelled to separate them. The crowd closed in on them; enemies near and far, all wanting a piece of him, all wanting a part in his misery.

"I'm so sorry," he rasped, burying his face against her throat.

"Oliver," she whispered.

"I won't let go." His arms gripped her tight. "I promise."

"Oliver!" he voice grew loud.

Hands pushing at him, pulling and dragging him away.

"Ollie!" she cried.

His eyes flew open and panting breaths were dragged into his lungs. He searched the room rapidly, looking for the enemy and finding none. It was just a dark bedroom, dimly lit by the moon filtering through the window. She was kneeling next to him, staring down in concern. Smiling gently, she stroked his brow. "It was a nightmare," she murmured, rubbing his chest. "You were kicking so bad, you nearly threw me off the bed." No condemnation, no anger, just soothing dulcet tones and warm hands.

He could feel the sweat clinging to his skin and his heartbeat banged heavily in his chest. Reaching for her, his hand gripped her tight before dragging her down across him. Burying his face in her hair, he held her close and breathed her in, waiting for calm to return.

"You okay?" she asked.

Instead of replying, he closed his eyes and stroked her back methodically.

"Cheater," she murmured, eyes growing heavy. He'd learned long ago that caressing her back in just the right way was a quick fix to getting her to sleep. And now, with sleep always calling her name, her stomach round with their baby, she was helpless to his hands. "Tell me the truth," she slurred, fighting off sleep.

"Just a bad dream. It's nothing," he promised, kissing her hair. "I'll get over it." His hand fell to rub her distended stomach. A smile escaped when their son kicked for him.

"It was Lex again, wasn't it?"

He didn't answer her, instead kneading her sides and smoothing his palms up and down her back until her faint snore met his ears. Cradling her carefully, he laid her down next to him and wrapped himself around her. There would always be fears, he would always wonder who out there might use her against him. And with Connor coming into the world in a few short weeks, yet another person he loved could one day be used as a tool of vengeance. But if there was one thing he knew, it was that whatever happened, whatever came for them, he would face it and he would fight it with all of himself. Nobody was taking his family from him; not Lex Luthor or anybody who planned to follow in his stead.

Oliver Queen would fight to the bitter end and as his son kicked once more, he knew he too would grow up with that same prerogative, just like his parents.


End file.
